Vaucluse Dreamer

Well, what a wonderful last 2 weeks this has been, and yesterday, we pedalled the last leg of the trip through western France, arriving in Bordeaux.

We had really enjoyed our couple of days cycling along the lanes around Duras, avoiding the storms that had been a constant feature of the weather forecasts. But, on our last evening’s walk around the village, we sat by the chateau and looked at the forecast for the last day. Wall to wall thunderstorms were showing, which wasn’t really what we had hoped for .

But, whatever the weather, we had to get to Bordeaux, ready to catch this morning’s early train back to Marseille and on to Aix, in time for tonight’s rugby. We really must be slightly mad to have arranged this whole trip around getting home via a couple of rugby matches. But, such is our life.

So, yesterday started early, and we pushed our bikes out of the house we had stayed in, before it was fully light. As we pedalled out of the village, the views were blurred by low cloud and the rising mist from overnight rain.

We dropped down towards the river and pedalled alongside it, passing a stunning old mill, with exquisite barns, which we think must have been the mill serving the Chateau, it was so beautifully built.

There was a sign outside asking the road users not to ‘ecraser’ (crush) ‘le petit chien’ and then we met Billie, the little dog himself, a delighful little terrier, that just wanted to say hello. So we did what he wanted, stopped and gave him a stroke, as he ran excitedly between us. We chatted with his owner too, talking about our trip and what a wonderful country France is, especially for cycling, and experiencing first-hand the subtle changes that happen in the space of just a kilometre or two.

Finally Billie decided that he had said enough hellos and had been adored enough & we pedalled away, with a cheerful ‘Bonne route’ from his owner.

Then the first glitch of the day, when we heard a hiss, and Andy’s rear tyre had punctured again. Not quite as dramatically as it had done in Angouleme, but there was a fine white spray of sealant splashing on the road. Once again though, after a minute of walking the bike, the hole sealed itself and we were able to continue riding, as if nothing had happened.

After years of having to stop and fix punctured inner tubes, the tubeless tyres were proving to be a delight.

We pedalled on through the early morning, with almost every dog we passed, running their fence, barking at us. Chasing cyclists really is their favourite entertainment, and we were happy that the gates were closed.

We had set a route that would take us from Duras to Sauveterre-De-Guyenne, where we planned to have a second breakfast, before joining the Roger Lapebie Cycle Path for the final ride into Bordeax. In 1100 km, this would be the first purpose-made cycle route we had used, but it takes you right into the heart of the city, and would be a perfect way to end this part of the ride.

After a while, we started to pick up signs that we were on the Canal Des Deux Mers cycle route, a 750km route that links the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, part of which Andy and the boys had cycled, on their first ride through France in 2016.

The quiet roads took us through vineyards, where the farmers were hard at work with the harvest…

And through countryside that made us feel as if we were back on the roads of East Devon, with deep lanes bordered by high hedges, and steep hills that just seemed to get worse, just before the top. It was a lovely ride, and despite the forecasts, we heard no thunder, just getting mildy wet in the occasional shower.

By 1030, we arrived in Sauveterre-De-Guyenne, just in time for a second-breakfast, and it proved to be the best of the holiday, so far. Almond-custard filled, buttery croissants and a decent coffee too, which was the biggest surprise. We love french cafes, but honestly the coffee isn’t great, so to find something drinkable was a real bonus.

We sat watching the gentle life of the town go on around us, waiting for another shower to pass, before we couldn’t delay any longer, and hopped back on the bikes, making our way down through the old bastide town, to the start of the Roger Lapebie Trail.

This is a purpose-built cycle path, along the route of an old railway line that runs from Sauveterre-De-Guyenne to a small town on the outskirts of Bordeaux, from where there are excellent, protected cycle paths into the city. It is named after Roger Lapebie, a cyclist who hailed from the Gironde area, where the track runs, and who won the Tour de France in 1937.

It felt strange riding along a path, not having to think about cars, but it was a joy, and we soon relaxed into pedalling along its silky smooth, tarmac surface.

It is a really pretty trail, and was busy with cyclists, along the whole route. From people pottering on electric-bikes, groups of friends loaded up for cycle touring, and bike-packers too. It was lovely to see that the route is thriving.

The kilometres slipped easily away, as we passed through vineyards..

Through rolling countryside, and deep, wooded railway cuttings

And past beautiful old houses and chateaux, including one, which seemed to have slipped out of the pages of a fairytale book. I was waiting to see Rapunzel let down her hair from the turret…

In some of the villages we passed, the old stations have been converted into cafes and restaurants, which is lovely to see and they were busy, even on a soggy Thursday lunchtime, in September.

Just before Créon, we noticed a tunnel ahead, its dark entrance, an open mouth waiting to swallow us,

and as we pedalled in, it stayed dark.

But, just as I started to wonder how we would see enough to pedal through, a string of lights came on to guide our way.

It gave me a ridiculously child-like sense of joy. There was something rather lovely about pedalling through an old tunnel, and having it all to ourselves for the few moments that it took to ride out of the other side. We obviously don’t have enough to stress about on the ride!

Tempting, as it was just to go back and ride through it again (yes, I did consider it), we pedalled on, as far as Creon, where we stopped for a sandwich, at a covered picnic spot. Once again, we had somehow, timed our stop to perfection, as the sky darkened and an angry little storm passed overhead… A little video from our lunch time stop

It seems to have been the story of this last week. Our ride and plans may have been afftected by the weather, but we know that we did the right thing, in making the changes that we did, as we have avoided the serious storms that have hit elsewhere. But whenever one has hit us, we seem to have been in just the right place to stay out of the worst of it. So in many ways, we’ve been very lucky.

We waited for the worst of the rain to pass, before continuing on, splashing through puddles and getting soaked by the water falling from the leaves overhead, but once again, the skies darkened even more and the heavens opened again, sending us sprinting for the cover of a porch at an old station.

But once that had passed, the skies lightened and we swept along the last few kilometres of the trail, joining the protected cycle paths that would take us into the city.

The paths took us along a quiet road, alongside the Garonne river, a vast waterway that runs through the city. We passed elegant ‘Chartreuses’, set behind beautiful gateways. These are traditional beautiful single storey ‘country-residences’ of the region, more akin to minature chateaux than a little cottage. Dating back to 1650-1850, they appear to have taken their name from the first one, which was built by the Monks of Chartreuse, in the Gironde.

Although we were on the outskirts of the city, it was still a safe and lovely ride. What amazed us, when we entered the city itself was the infrastructure that is now in place for pedestrians, cycles, trams and buses. We pedalled in across a bridge that must originally have had 6 or 8 lanes of traffic, but has now been split in 2 with half, or perhaps just over half, dedicated to buses, cycles and walkers. It made the ride in, especially good, and we stopped just to mark the moment and take in the view, along the river to the elegant old city on its banks.

We found our apartment, which was so close to the station for today’s early start that we could hear the jingle, and the regular announcements. But we didn’t want a long ride to get to the station in time for the 6am train, and effectively we could just fall out of bed and we’d be there.

After a quick shower, we walked into the old town, easing our legs after the days ride, and sitting down with a beer to celebrate reaching the city, after 1091km of pedalling.

You can View a little video from the ride here

The last time we were in the city was to watch Exeter Chiefs play La Rochelle, in the Rugby European Cup, a couple of years ago, so it was nice to visit it again, although we weren’t going to be there long enough to really enjoy it.

Over a beer, we marvelled at how busy it was, after the peaceful areas we have passed through, and stopped in over the last couple of weeks. The more we chatted, the more we appreciated how much we enjoy exploring in this way. Adding the rugby into the mix this time has been great fun, and visiting Angouleme last week for the first match of the season added a whole new angle to our ride.

It’s hard to believe that 2 weeks has slipped by so easily, and it would be easy to think the adventure is over, but we had a 6am train to catch, so we headed back for an early night, knowing that we would be awake long before the alarms we’d set started to ring.

And we were right, at 4am, we were both wide awake and looking forward to today’s journey on the train, back to Aix, in time for tonight’s rugby match. Although, after our experiences on the train in England on that first day , we were both perhaps a little nervous.

By 5am, we were at the station, waiting for the train to be announced, hoping that it hadn’t been cancelled (which was the start of our problems, 2 weeks ago). But all went well.

The train arrived and we slipped our bikes (that we had booked with our seats) into their spaces in the large bike storage area in the carriage, and settled into our seats for the 6 hour trip across the south of France back to Marseille.

So, as things are at the moment, we will be in Aix tonight. I will put on my Provence Rugby T-Shirt again, that I have carried all this way, and we’ll pick up our season tickets for the year, before I can shout myself hoarse, willing our team to victory.

Honestly rugby and cycling are the perfect mix

Allez Les Noirs